Welcome Home

[[ My inspiration for this little blurb is attempting to correct my own preconceived notions about what heaven is like.  Sometimes I fear what heaven will be like. Yeah, weird right? I fear that it will be some strange, mysterious place where all we do is worship and while that's absolutely wonderful, something tells me there is so much more. The mysterious part of heaven lies in the mystery of perfection and understanding that we will attain. But I believe there will be a deep-set familiarity, too. Familiarity that affirms, "So this is home."]]

Welcome Home Part 1

"Welcome home!" Immediate embrace. The face is strangely familiar, even though I am sure I haven't seen Him before. A warm, majestic glow emanates from His person.

      "Oh my God . . . " I whisper, falling to my knees.
      "Yes, I AM," He replies, lifting my chin with a sort of smirk on His face. "Welcome home, my child! Heaven rejoices that you have run the race and can now fully enjoy my presence and the extent of my love."
      I stare down at my hands and realize that I am glowing too. It's otherworldly, but not ghostlike. It is the feeling of completion, of perfection, all wrapped up in visual display.
      "Would you like some coffee?"
      "What?"
      "Pumpkin spice latte is your favorite, right?"
      "Yeah . . ."
      I begin to take in my surroundings as Jesus turns on the espresso machine. Did I really just say that? I suddenly burst out laughing. Jesus laughs too -- of course! He knows what I am thinking. At once trembling yet also feeling at perfect peace, I realize we are in a room full of books. I start to read some of the titles. Some are names like "Richard Smith." Others are books I would find in my own vast collection: The Hole in Our Gospel, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter . . . I laugh again.
      Jesus hands me a mug, full to the brim with the best-smelling coffee I have ever come across. The milk is frothy on top, just the way I like it. I take a sip and wonder if I ever had tasted real coffee before now. It is truly indescribable.
      "Thank you," I exclaim, still trying to come to grips with what is happening around me.
      "Just outside this room there are many friends and family awaiting your arrival."
      "Oh!"
      "But first, I need to tell you a story."
      Jesus offers me a seat in a comfy purple armchair and I snuggle into the cushions with my still-steaming mug. Jesus walks over to a shelf directly behind me. He pulls out a large volume. I don't even wonder how long this will take. In fact, the concept of time feels strangely irrelevant. Jesus lovingly opens the volume to page one and smiles at me.
      "This is My story through the lens of your precious life," He declares, then begins to read. He starts before I was born, to circumstances that, had they not occurred, would have not led to my birth. This stunning start was giving me such a thrill of wonder that I wanted to laugh and cry at once. Form the beginning, He refused to skip any of my bad moments-- my temper tantrums, selfish demands, and complaints. Though my heart felt sad as these wrongs were re-iterated, there was no guilt present. For the first time ever I knew without a doubt I had been absolved of all my wrongs--that God had never grown weary of loving and forgiving me.